


A Wolf in the Thunder

by vertejaune



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aunt/Nephew Incest, F/M, Family, R Plus L Equals J, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 16:22:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17429366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vertejaune/pseuds/vertejaune
Summary: Jon still feels like a wolf, even surrounded by dragons.





	A Wolf in the Thunder

Jon Targaryen does not understand his children. He loves them more than anything, but they are dragons through and through, and he is a wolf. Even after all these years, he feels more like a Stark than a Targaryen, more like a Snow than a Stark. When he took on the name Targaryen, he always felt more like he was adopting the sigil of his wife’s house, not claiming his birthright. He spends most of his time these days with his family either in King’s Landing or on Dragonstone, but he never feels at home there the way he does when he visits the North.

He wonders, sometimes, if Catelyn felt this way, if all wives that are sent to live in a strange land and adopt new words feel this way. 

Today had been hard for him. He and Daenerys had been relaxing after dinner when Aemon, their eldest, had come to them. At almost eighteen years, Aemon had long been resisting any suggestions of potential wives, and Jon had despaired of his son ever accepting a match. Just a few weeks ago, Jon had joked to Daenerys that perhaps Aemon had a baseborn lover himself that he was unwilling to set aside, and this had gone on long enough that Jon would consider the marriage, politics be damned. 

Tonight, when Aemon told them that he intended to marry his sister Lyanna, Jon felt himself recoil in horror. But when he looked over to Daenerys, he could see that she was smiling broadly, before quickly calming herself and telling him that she would discuss the matter with his father. When Aemon left the room, though, he could tell that she was happy.

Still, after so many years, she could tell that Jon was troubled. “Are you unhappy with the idea? Aemon and Lyanna have always been close, and they are both beloved by the kingdom. We have made no promises to other houses, and you know the common folk are itching to see him wed.”

Jon paused before replying, trying to calm himself. “They are brother and sister! The people will be appalled, and I might be as well. It doesn’t bother you?”

Daenerys shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. “Targaryens have always wed brother and sister. You’re my nephew, and before you I always expected to marry my brother. Even if Robert’s Rebellion had never happened, you would have married me or your sister Rhaenys. One generation of a Baratheon on the throne has not wiped the memory of the common folk. After these years of peace and prosperity, they again see our house as the strength of Westeros, the protectors of the realm. Stories of our victories over the enemy in the north are taught to children every day alongside stories of Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters. I doubt the common folk will have any objections.”

Jon had no immediate reply. He loved his children and his wife dearly, but there was something essentially Targaryen about them that he didn’t understand. He remembered when they found out about his heritage, how thrilled and overcome Daenerys had been. For him, the revelation had been a source of pain, and she had tried to be understanding for him, to mourn the loss of Ned Stark as his father alongside him. But he could feel, underneath, the steady pulse of joy in her that she was not the only Targaryen in the world anymore.

He loves her, desperately. She is fire made flesh. From the beginning he could see her strength, and over time he learned her goodness. He came to see how she inspired people, how she cared about them. But she is so different from him. His wife is a conqueror, driven by her passion to reshape the world into a better place and to rule over it. Jon was a king even before he met her, but it has always been a service, to him. He has never wanted to lead, he accepted the mantle only because he knew it was necessary. Rhaegar may have sired him, but he has never felt like a true Targaryen.

His children are like their mother. There can be no doubt that their words are Fire and Blood. Jon knows that all his children are compassionate and honorable, but he still hopes that time will temper some of that dragon spirit simmering in Aemon especially before he is called upon to rule. Even in their look, none particularly resemble Jon, they are all silver hair and violet eyes. Daenerys laments it to him sometimes, especially after their last boy, little Robb, who seemed for a time as though he might have more of a northern look. But as he grew to a toddler his hair lightened and he began to look just like his siblings and their mother. 

When they were young, Jon was so proud of them, his little children that took after their mother so strongly. He remembers the first time Daenerys had taken Aemon down to meet Drogon, only four months after his birth. Jon had been in meetings with Tyrion all morning and had been nearly out of his mind with fear when he found out. 

He had found Daenerys later and was almost hysterical when he asked her, “You really took Aemon to the dragonpit?”

Her unreservedly happy grin had only agitated him further, “Of course. The weather has finally turned, and Drogon and Rhaegal have been wanting to meet him for ages. I thought it best to introduce them one at a time, so I could be sure to make them understand the need to be gentle.”

Jon had sputtered, “And they were? Did they like Aemon? Was he afraid?”

Daenerys put a hand on his, “Of course. They love him. And Aemon loves them- when I held out his hand to touch Drogon, he laughed and laughed. It was amazing, Jon. You’ll have to come with me to introduce him to Rhaegal.”

Only somewhat reassured, Jon had agreed. And the next morning when they took the baby to meet Rhaegal, he did laugh again, and Jon felt his heart swell to bursting in spite of his fears. Even though he rode Rhaegal, Jon never felt comfortable with the dragons the way his wife did. A wary sort of awe laced all his interactions with them, but his children had no such reservations. Aemon loved them and wanted to spend as much time there as possible, as did Lyanna and Robb. Only Alysanne, their third-born, seemed to prefer Ghost, and even she still seemed fully at ease around the dragons.

His children are older now, and Jon is still desperately proud of them. But sometimes, he does feel alone. There is a particular type of camaraderie that he feels with Arya and Sansa that he has never felt with his own children. He wonders, sometimes, if he and Daenerys will have more. It seems unlikely, as they are both approaching their fortieth nameday, but Robb is getting older and Jon suspects that if he brings it up with Daenerys she’d be willing to try. 

In the meantime, though, there is the matter of his current children. Daenerys is still looking at him, waiting for his reply, and Jon realizes he has been lost in thought for some time. 

“I suppose you want to tell Aemon and Lyanna that they have our blessing, then?” he finally ventures.

Daenerys looks at him, concerned. “Well, yes. For one, they love each other and for another, they’d probably run off or do something foolish if we tried to refuse. And I cannot deny that I have suspected for some time that this was coming. Besides,” and she pokes him in the side, “I think Rhaegal has been looking a bit broody lately. No surprise as it’s your dragon, but I have a suspicion that we may be well served to have more Tarygaryens around in the coming years.”

Jon stares at her, ignoring the wordplay and her jibe at him, “Are you certain? How on earth can you tell?”

Daenerys laughs, “You remember when Sam found me all those texts about dragons. And no, of course I’m not certain, but I think it’s likely.”

Jon couldn’t say much to that. “Alright then. We’ll tell them tomorrow, then talk to Tyrion about how to announce the news to the realm.”

Daenerys snuggles into his side, happy. “That sounds good. I’m sorry, love. I know this is strange for you. But I think this is the right decision. Aemon and Lyanna will be good rulers, and they care for each other. And we’re getting old, it’s high time we had some grandchildren.”

Jon holds her and makes no reply, pushing down the revulsion in his stomach at the idea of his children being the ones to have his grandchildren, together. He wishes for a moment that Ned Stark were still around, wanting nothing more than to talk with the man who had been his father and ask him for advice. But Ned probably would have felt as Jon did. He is a wolf surrounded by dragons and they are his family, but he will never be one of them.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really thrilled with how it wraps up, but let me know what you think.


End file.
